Willow (Willow Falls Saga) - By Donna Lynn Hope Page 0,2

me. I wasn’t prepared for so close an encounter. The force of it was overpowering. I had seen her likeness before but long ago. She looked just like her, but it wasn’t her.

I couldn’t help but look intently, memorizing every detail. Her long black lashes framed questioning cat-like eyes that were as rich and dark as the chocolate candies in her hand. They flared momentarily, which took my breath away. Her cheekbones were high and prominent. Her small but full lips, which were moistened, reminded me of a doll. The girl before me was soft and anyone else might say she had a certain doll-like charm, but contrasting that kind of effortless beauty were the sharpness of her features.

Time seemed to stand still and we were speaking to each other without saying a word. Outside of our unspoken cocoon, bells chimed. She momentarily shifted, breaking the spell. The girl with no name opened her mouth and paused--as if she were about to engage me--then politely told me thank you in a voice so soft it sounded like a whisper. She left the store swiftly and I watched her go, my thoughts confounded and her exceptional scent swirling about me.

She was unfailingly, distinctively earthy – different, hard to decipher, even under the artificial dusting of her sweet lemon perfume. I had been aware that someone had come in after me and I stepped aside and walked to the window but the girl was already gone. I knew I could find her, but something kept me locked in place and lost in memory, recalling that face from years ago.

The girl was human, I was sure enough of that. Blood coursed through her veins like anyone else and I could sense the strong beat of her heart – a heart that beat slightly faster than most. I had smelled her faint perspiration and underneath it detected the lingering scent of soap. She was lovely in her own nimble way but astonishingly normal. Just as potent as her scent, was the scent of her grief. It floored me, but not nearly as much as the familiar force of her eyes. I had to know more, I had to know her.

Chapter 2: Willow

It was by all accounts a beautiful autumn day; so beautiful it was offensive. I wanted the day to reflect how I really felt and I wanted the sky to darken in varying shades of dark indigo and angry amethyst. I wanted wind to violently force clouds across the sky. I wanted it to storm and to thunder as if it could match the silent screams I felt inside. I wanted rain to fall from the heavens like grief had poured out from my broken heart.

I was by myself in presence and in thought.

Alone.

I repeated the cold, despondent word to myself; the meaning seemed so final and forlorn, just as I was. There was a slight breeze and desiccated amber leaves fell from their branches. As they drifted I noted the ones already decaying on the pavement near my feet. At one time those leaves had been nothing more than a bud beginning its phase through life. I knelt down and gently scooped one of them up. Its form was delicate and at one time no doubt vibrant with pigment and composition. I traced the contour and closed my palm around it, rendering it into dust. I blew and watched as the particles dispersed into thin air.

All I knew at that moment was that I didn’t want that cycle of life and death to claim one of my own, my only one.

I stood there for a moment and brushed a single tear from my cheek. I couldn’t even muster the energy to spill the floodgates that boiled under the surface. My throat burned but I had to do it. With painful resolve I mustered what little strength I had and I walked into the funeral home. I lowered my head until my chin was tucked into the warmth of my patterned plush scarf. My hands were clenched but they were hidden inside the pockets of my red wool coat. I was trying to conceal my emotions from revealing themselves physically. I barely noticed my surroundings but the interior of the reformed Victorian home was dark and depressing. Adding to the dismal ambiance that threatened to grip me in its bleak embrace were the dimly lit sconces. My feet, enclosed in small black boots, walked upon a dark wood floor and a carpet of